


doped dog

by Rebldomakr



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent - Under Influence, First Time, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Sex, im sorry i have no control over myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebldomakr/pseuds/Rebldomakr
Summary: The taste on his tongue is bitter.





	doped dog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everythingnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everythingnow/gifts).



> unbeta'ed, but, uh, a gift for the dude who rp's with me and wrote me a gift fic! hope you enjoy

Envy isn’t as green as Will has been lead to believe. The taste on his tongue is bitter and he feels his world warping to blue and purple, like the mess that’s probably on his heart. Funny to think something as silly as a crush he didn’t even realize he had could leave so much damage to his internals. The butterflies in his stomach are rotting when he’s supposed to be focused on a girl, who is honestly _very_ pretty, but _he_ can only think about his best friend kissing someone. Who is a girl. Because his best friend is a boy and boys aren’t supposed to like other boys. Why does Will care so much about Mike? He doesn’t care about that girl he’s kissing. He knows the turmoil inside isn’t because of her. It isn’t anxiety, either. It’s rage and jealously, a desire to be in the girl’s place with his lips pushing against Mike’s.

Instead, he has a girl of his own. She’s pretty. She’s smiling. He can’t think about her, though. He’s thinking about Mike. Mike. Mike. _Mike._

His girl tugs him and makes his tilting-wilting world even more dazed. She brings him to a corner where a group of kids are crowded together, moving hands over cups of punch. She hands him a cup. “Danny says he stole it from his brother.” She whispers into his ear. Her breath is hot and wet. Will bets if it was Mike’s air, his body would thrum. Instead it shivers and pulses away. She smiles wider at his reaction. She sees it as something that it isn’t. “Here.” She says, making him wrap his fingers around the plastic cup.

“Drink.” She says. Will does. He’s already thirsty. It tastes like normal punch. As it slides off of his tongue into his belly, grit settles on his tongue and on his teeth. When he rubs his molars together he can feel it grind. On his tongue, it’s a little chalky. He frowns and looks into the cup.

“I don’t know how much I was supposed to add.” A boy says. He must be Danny. His eyes are half-lidded and he’s leaning against the wall. He has an airy smile on his face. The same giggly, relaxed look is forming on the rest of the group’s faces. “I think I added too much. You can taste it.”

“It tastes like medicine.” Will says. Loose-lipped, maybe because Lucas and Dustin was with Max. Why can’t he talk, too? To people who don’t belong to their group? Does it even really matter? “Like the stuff they gave me when I came home.” Those prescription bottles his mom couldn’t afford to constantly fill if the government wasn’t just handing the in buckets to Will.

“From the forest?” Someone asks.             

Will nods. He looks at his cup and dunks his finger inside, scooping up the wet, gritty powder at the bottom. It’s not fine or even evenly pounded to bits. There’s chunks and there’s pieces so fine that it looks like liquid with the droplets of punch left. He rubs the powder on his tongue and wraps his lips around his finger. His girl giggles and leans in, kissing his cheek. “Let’s dance!” She says. Will nods again.

On the dance floor, his limps become slow and lazy. He can see Mike sitting down with Eleven, sipping cups of punch that are probably free of anything that isn’t punch. He can also see Lucas and Max, and Dustin talking to Nancy Wheeler. He can see his brother as he twirls with his girl. He thinks he sees a tendril slapped onto the wall and midnight-black red blood splattered on the wall. He blinks and everything’s clean again. He can’t see anyone solidly, except for his girl who kisses him.

It’s closed-mouthed, but their teeth clank through their lips. They giggle together and try again, and again. It doesn’t make his body thrum the way he’s been led to believe it should from romance novels. Still, he sighs and lays his head on his girl’s chest. She runs her fingers through his hair and they dance, shuffling their limps in a mockery of an actual slow-walk, until they’re too tired to stand.

The Snowball ends the same time Will’s almost falling asleep. He sees his friends walk past him. They don’t seem like they’re seeing him. He thinks he sees Mike’s lips move into the shape of his lips, but he’s holding Eleven’s hand and everyone’s too caught up in their own romance and joy to realize that he’s only a few feet away, sprawled out on a chair while a girl tries to braid his hair that’s probably just barely long enough.

Will eventually stands up and he walks out of the gym with his girl. She kisses him goodbye and gets into her mother’s car. It happens fast. He’s alone. He’s wandering around the parking lot in search of his brother. A few braids are sticking out of his hair, untied by any bands, the ends sticking wild like the tops of pineapples. The braids range from messy and barely together, to tightly and properly twisted and packaged. He sees his reflection in a puddle and marvels. He feels different, but he looks the same.

He feels ready to tumble off of a cliff. He doesn’t think he likes being alone very much. He thinks he sees a slug in the puddle and he runs backwards, tripping over the heels of his feet and gravel on the ground. He whimpers before his back is slamming into a car. Will didn’t realize he was so close to a car, but he appreciates it as brace. He blinks rapidly and watches the slug’s existence flicker out.

A hand settles on Will’s shoulder. “Jesus, you doing okay, kid?”

He turns his head and sees a body. “Oh. Sorry.” He mumbles, pushing away. “Didn’t realize you were a person.” He says. He looks up and focuses in on the body’s head, the face. It’s a man. No, it’s not a man, but close. “Aren’t you Max’s brother?” He asks.

The not-man-but-teenager-though-he-sorta-looks-like-one sneers. “Stepbrother.” He corrects, teeth digging into his cigarette’s orange filter. Smoke rolls out of his mouth and the tip of his cigarette. “Aren’t you the Freak Boy’s brother?” He asks.

“Jonathan?” Will has to clarify. Surely his brother isn’t the only freak in high school. He gets a nod, so he nods back. “He’s my brother.” He says.

“How about we call each other by our names? I’m Billy. Who are you?” Max’s brother says, before closing his mouth. He inhales, his chest expanding and the tip of his cigarette turning red and more of it cracks into ash.

As Will answers, he watches the exhale, the smoke curling into the winter-still air. “Will.” He’s blowing out into the cloud then, watching his clean respiration break apart the gray cloud. He smiles. It looks pretty.

“Well, Will,” Billy says, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. “What the fuck did you take? You look doped.” He flicks the cigarette, it between two fingers. The ash breaks out and smacks feet down below onto the ground, right by his feet.

“I don’t know.” Will responds honestly. He moves to lean against the car that Billy’s leaning against. It’s blue. He’s pretty sure it’s Billy’s. He just wants to lean against something. His legs need help keeping him upright. He sighs as his back presses against the cold metal. “I can’t find mom.” He says.

“You look like you’d be lucky to find your own dick.” Billy snickers. “What made you get high at a fucking school dance? You’re like, twelve. Are you that upset about a girl dumping or, what the fuck, man?” He asks.

Will closes his eyes. He didn’t knowingly ingest that punch. Was there a hint that something was in it? Was he told there was something in it? He can’t remember anymore. He knows he still wishes he was Eleven, holding Mike’s hand. That ‘his’ girl wasn’t a girl, if it couldn’t be Mike, then he wished he could at least have a boy. Someone who isn’t so, _girl_ -like. “I have a crush on my best friend and he doesn’t like me.” He mumbles. “I,” His eyes begin to sting. “Hate myself.” He finishes. A sob erupts from his chest, through his throat, out his mouth. “Why can’t I just be normal?” He whines, it sounds like a soft wail.

He covers his face with his hands and he begins to cry. Snot and tears mix, feeling like sweat on his palms as he just – cries. He curls into himself and slides down some. That good, empty-ish feeling was gone, now he’s feeling pure despair. He wishes for the envy and anger back. It was so much easier to hide. At least, then, he wasn’t sobbing next to a near total stranger.

“You really are high.” Billy says. Will feels a hand grab the back of his head, threading between his hair including a braid. Then he’s being tugged up straight. It aches dully. He’s being forced to look up, directly into Billy’s eyes. “If drugs aren’t working, I got something that might help.” He says.

Will sniffles. “Like what?” He asks.

“Come on, get in the backseat.” Billy says, throwing his cigarette on the ground. He doesn’t bother to crush it with his boot. “Lay down and hide yourself with the blanket. I’ll drop Max off at home, then I’ll take you somewhere to have some fun.”

In a minute, Will’s laid out in a too-small backseat with an old fleece blanket laid over him. It barely covers his entire body. He feels Billy’s hand run over the blanket, on his thigh up to his stomach. When he feels his body tremble, he doesn’t understand why – but knows that it already feels better than when that girl kissed him earlier. He closes his eyes and decides to wait, wondering what fun he is going to have. He hopes his mom is okay waiting for him.

Max eventually gets into the car. Will knows because he can hear her. “Couldn’t you have picked me up at the front? I had to walk all the way over here!” She’s complaining.

“Think I give a fuck? ‘Cause I don’t. I’ve got better shit to be doing.” Billy snaps back at her.

“No, you’ve got some slut to be doing! Neil says that’s all you do!” Max shouts.

“Max, shut the fuck up before I make you fucking walk.” Billy says.

There’s not a response and the car starts.

Will falls asleep to the noise of Black Sabbath and the roar-shake from the car’s engine reaching the back. He feels warm and cozy. He dreams of large hands growing out of trees like branches, wrapping around his body. On his biceps, his wrists, his neck, his ankles, his knees, his thighs, around his waist then more on either side of his stomach. Two more grow and push against his chest, wood stinging and splintering on his nipples, before running down. He sees blood running out of his skin like water.

Then, he’s waking up. Will feels sleepy and still, as Billy said, _doped_. He realizes he’s being carried. His head hangs on Billy’s shoulder, an arm under his knees and his side crushed against Billy’s chest. He enjoys the feel of it. He likes it more than when the girl had wrapped her arms around him when they were dancing. A _whole lot_ more.

He pulls his head up and hides it against the side of Billy’s neck. “Where am I?” He asks.

“Somewhere to have fun.” Billy says. “I’m going to help you forget your little crush for a night.”

Will nods and closes his eyes, breathing out of his nose and in through his mouth. It feels like a ritual and it entertains him. Eventually he’s being put down and he makes himself look. Billy had put him down on a bed. He blinks, watches Billy walk back and slam a door. “Where?” He asks again.

“Palm Tree Suites, off the highway.” Billy says. “The place where that girl got raped and killed.”

He remembers that story. It only happened three weeks ago, but Billy said it like it had happened ages ago, like there wasn’t anyone mourning her. Will wonders if that’s how people talked about him when he was missing. 

Billy’s shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair with an ugly orange and green plaid design spread across it. “Get undressed and get on your knees.” He says.

Will frowns. “Why?” He asks, rubbing his hands over his knees. He looks at the yellow blanket on the bed.

“Just do as I fucking said.” Billy says. “I’m going to help you, remember?”

He doesn’t know how getting naked is going to help him forget about how much of a weirdo he is for loving his boy best friend. But, he decides to listen. He doesn’t have it in him to think. Will tugs off his clothes, the suit that his mom got him just for tonight. One that he’ll probably wear to church eventually.

Will dumps his clothes off the edge of the bed, before he rolls onto his belly. His knees dig hard into the mattress. It squeaks and he can feel a spring against his left knee. He braces his head up with his elbows, finding it more comfortable than using his hands. He’s tempted to just let his face fall into the pillow, to at least sort-of lay down. He’s feeling a little tired, still.

“Damn.” He hears Billy say. He looks back, sees Billy with his shirt off and his jeans gone. He’s still wearing boxers. They’re plain white and he finds the very different from his Star Trek themed briefs, that are now on the ground. “How old are you?”He asks, walking forward and getting onto the bed. His weight makes the mattress whine in pain as it dips.

“Thirteen.” Will says.

“You don’t have any hair.” Billy says. He places his hand on Will’s buttcheek and he jumps, his skin exploding in goosebumps. The rest of his body is cold, but where Billy’s hand rests – it’s just right. “You’ve got a good ass, though, for a thirteen year old. If you ate some more, bet you’d get some real nice thighs.”

Will doesn’t understand why it’s important he has a nice butt. He nods, anyways. His neck aches and he really wants to lay down.

Billy’s hand turns into a harder grip on his ass, pinching Will’s flesh in his fist. “Going to make you forget about your crush, baby boy, just for a night.” He says, voice turning into a deep rumble. He rubs his thumb over Will’s asshole.

Will jolts forward and _whines_ high-pitched. “Why are you pressing there?” He asks. He grabs the bed sheets, but it’s lack. He doesn’t have any strength in his body.

“Guys got a sweet spot, like girls do. But instead of having cunts, it’s in our ass.” Billy explains. His thumb’s rubbing harder against it now. “I need something, shit.” He’s leaving the bed, now, and Will tries to watch Billy go into the motel bathroom. He rummages through the barren shelves, suddenly emerging with a palm-sized bottle of lotion.

As he’s searching, Will wonders what sweet spot girls have. “Are we gonna have sex?” He asks, when Billy gets onto the bed again. Equipped, now, with lotion. “I thought boys weren’t supposed, like, to _like_ each other.” He says.

“Sex is sex.” Billy says, popping open the cap on the bottle. “You ever touch yourself? You’re old enough for that right?”

Will tried using one of his brother’s magazines, once, to tempt his dick into hardness. The only thing it gave him, was shame. He focused too much on the few shots of dicks, all stuck inside vaginas or between boobs, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to thinking what it’d feel like to be split open like that. What it’d feel like to touch a man’s penis. Not his own, prepubescent specimen. He had wondered what Mike’s looked like.

“Just my dick.” He says.

“Touching here is fun, too.”Billy says. “You’ll see.” Then, he squeezing the bottle and forcing the lotion out onto his hand. Will can’t see what he’s doing, but he can hear a sloppy-wet noise and it sounds a bit like when he had rubbed Vaseline onto his dick.

More lotion is squeezed out. He can hear it hitting an air pocket, making that fart-noise, as it lands directly onto his asshole. He feels some land on his cheek, below and running down the crack. Will shifts, and frowns. “It feels weird.” He says.

“I haven’t done anything, yet.” Billy says. He’s rubbing his thumb back against his hole. It feels different, now. His thumb’s nail was blunt, but it rubs hard against his asshole and it hurts. Will winces.  The tip of Billy’s thumb sinks inside and it is – _strange_. It doesn’t hurt. He can feel it curling inside of him and, **_oh_**.

Will moans, it sounds like a whine.

Billy laughs and digs his thumb in more. Will can feel the finger, yeah, and it shouldn’t feel so good but, it does. Feels better than when he’d touched his dick in the past. It makes his entire body tremble, the more Billy rubs his thumb in and out of him. “That’s your sweet spot.” He says.

“More.” Will begs.

“Daddy can give you more.” Billy says, laughing. Will feels, confused, at Billy calling himself ‘Daddy’. He’s pretty sure Billy doesn’t have a kid. Though, then, Billy pushes in his other thumb next to the first. He doesn’t rub more into that sweet spot. Will whines in complaint. It begins to hurt as Billy pulls his thumbs apart, spreading open his hole.

Will whines again. “Hurts!” He says, trying to pull himself away from Billy. His asshole catches on Billy’s curved thumbs. He’s held in place from fear of pain. “Please, make it feel good again.” He says.

“I am.” Billy says. “Once I get my cock inside.”

“You’re putting a chicken inside of me?” Will asks, confused. He tries to look over at Billy when he hears the older teen start laughing.

“No, my dick. Fucking dumbass.” Billy says, only lightly chuckling by the time he answers. He pulls his thumbs out of Will. “I’m just going to pick it in. Might hurt a little, but, you’re still doped.” He says.

Billy’s dick, his _cock_ , feels like a much bigger, nail-less thumb. It’s a strange pain as it enters Will. He never thought anything should go inside, there. He’s always believed it was just an exit. Will hears Billy groan. It feels like it just keeps on going, like his dick is endless. Feels like forever until it’s inside. Then, it feels weird. Indescribable, at least not in only a few words. It feels like what Will would imagine a forearm or a shampoo bottle would feel inside of him. It hurts, but it doesn’t at the same time. _Like he’s meant to take like this, but he’s **untrained**_.

His sweet spot has pressure on it and it feels _good_. Will moans softly and he closes his eyes. He lets his head fall down to the pillow and he just enjoys this feeling. He’s thinking he likes this a lot more than touching his dick.

Will tries to move, to try maneuver the dick inside of him to press more against his sweet spot by pulling himself forward. Only, he’s stopped by a wet grip around his waist. Billy leans forward and presses his bare chest against Will’s back and he can feel the tremble of a growl.

“Don’t fucking move.” Billy says. It sounds like how a human snarl would sound, Will thinks.

“I want more.” Will says, puffing out air. It makes a few loose brown strands of hair in front of his eyes float up briefly.

“Then fucking ask nicely.” Billy uses his hands around Will’s waist to force him back and – oh, okay. Will likes that. He lets out another moan and he’s definitely stuffed more than he was just seconds ago. He decides he likes that feeling, even if he can feel lazy prickles around his hole and inside of him, _around_ Billy’s dick.

“Can I have more?” Will asks. He tries to make his voice sugar sweet, the way he used to when begging his big brother to get him that lollipop on the gas station counter.

“Good boy.” Billy says. He’s approving. It shows in a weird way because he’s pulling out his dick. Will sees how it’s approving when it’s jammed back inside of him. He swears he can feel it shove through his body and he mouths pops open wide. He wonders if Billy’s deep enough to come out his mouth but, no, that’s impossible. Billy isn’t _that_ big.

Billy pulls out slow and pushes in fast. It has rhythm and Will can appreciate that. He can’t control how he’s showing his appreciation, but it is being shown. His mouth is still hanging open and he’s moaning, cheek pressed uncomfortably hard into the smoke-smelling pillow. He’s too scared of upsetting Billy and making this all stop to try to push back onto his dick, to try to chase after it when it’s pulled away from him.

When Will orgasms, he lets out a cry. The cry is like a scream, all high-pitched and loud and it sounds like it should echo in someone’s eardrums. His eyes go wider and he focuses on the minute details on the pillow case, but at the same time his mind blanks out and he sees sparkles of black and white flies.

“Fucking loud.” Billy grunts behind him, tightening his grip around Will’s waist. “Fucking made you feel good,” He pants. “Daddy’s gonna feel good now.”

It hurts a little when Billy continues. Will starts to cry as his body begins to ache again. It feels good, again, but it doesn’t feel good. It’s strange. So he cries. He empties out loud sobs into the pillow while Billy continues to push-in-pull-out his hole. He feels his dick twitch again and it’s hard again, he thinks, but then it’s not. He thinks he might’ve orgasmed again. He can’t really tell right now.

Will can’t feel Billy’s semen pouring inside of him. He does feel it when Billy pulls out for the last time. He can feel the trickle and he thinks, an absent-feeling first thought, that it’s blood. Until Billy says, “Look at my cum leak out of you, boy.” He sounds proud.

A moment of clarity strikes, a few minutes later, as Billy’s dressing him and he’s staining his underwear. He wonders what he’s going to tell his mom. It vanishes as soon as he hears Billy say, “We should do this again, sometime, babe.”


End file.
